Rest In Peace
by R. Walker
Summary: Why is it that the subway station didn't seem to have a camera on the doors when Light Yagami killed Raye Penber? Why is it that a rugby star like Suguru Shimura became so inordinately paranoid? How does Naomi Die? The answer is anything but simple.
1. Prologue

"Goodbye, Raye Penber."

KACHUNK.

I watched for a moment, horrified, as the doors shut on the train, taking KIRA himself with them. I tried- I tried frantically to go after him. But all I could do was stare, until the subway started to move again, and my soul finally gave up, descending quietly into the shadows.

There were only about 20 people at the station the night KIRA killed me, five of whom were actual witnesses to my death. Whether they saw Yagami . . . no, whether they saw KIRA, I don't know, but they were my only hope. They were:

A young woman in a white coat.

A college student.

An old homeless man.

A man smoking a pipe near the back half of the train.

A wealthy young man with a breifcase.

All of them were witnesses to my death. Only one would help me rest in peace.


	2. Static

_What a bunch of hopeless fools, _thought L, who was watching Aizawa and Detective-Superintendent Yagami go over the security tapes. Didn't they see the man in the white hat? _It's as if I have to tell them everything, _L thought. You'd think they would want to find out who gave Raye the envelope in the first place.

As a matter of fact, they didn't seem to be noticing the envelope either. At first, L decided to test them, to see if they noticed it, but after waiting patiently for a while, pretending to think aloud as they followed along, he grew tired of waiting and decided to help them out. " What happened to the envelope?" L yelled, trying not to sound sarcastic.

For some reason, they seemed pretty impressed that L had noticed the _bright yellow_ envelope that was given to Raye by the man dressed entirely in _bright white_ clothing. If anyone was impressed, it was L, who was more impressed at their ignorance than they were at him noticing the manila envelope.

It didn't matter to him, though. He knew the man in the white cap was KIRA. Just one more clue, and L would be able to figure out KIRAs identity. All he would need to do after that is prove it.

Something was strange about these tapes, though. It was as if any important shots of Raye or the man in white had been erased…

-A few days earlier-

"Kiyomi, you have to believe me, I saw him!"

"I do believe you, but there's nothing I can do!"

Kiyomi and Kyoko had been arguing for five minutes now. Kyoko was the woman in the white coat who had seen me die. Apparently, she was a junior in high school and the younger sister of Kiyomi.

And, as luck would have it, she was part a family who supported KIRA fiercely.

"Please sister," said Kyoko. "If your friend doesn't agree to help us out, KIRA will be caught." Kyoko put her head in her hands.

"Kyoko…" Kiyomi rolled over to her sister in her office chair. "Don't worry, Taro is in charge of maintenance at the station, they won't suspect a thing. Plus, he owes me a favor. If he's even slightly honorable, he'll do this for us." Kiyomi smiled.

It was painful, watching two sisters worry over KIRA as if he were a hospitalized relative. I knew that KIRAs influence would eventually spread, but I didn't realize that there were already people out there who considered him a messiah.

I had haunted her all the way back to her house, thinking that the female witness would be the first person they contacted. But as it turned out, she and her sister were about to destroy my last hope for salvation, likely before anyone else knew about the 12 FBI agents that were about to die. L would probably only find out about this after most of the other agents were already dead. My only hope now was the chance that Taro would instead give the recordings directly to the police.

A few minutes later, Kiyomi received an email from the elusive Taro, explaining how he had destroyed the tapes. And it only added insult to injury when I realized that Taro had stupidly attached copies of the files to the email, and Kiyomi had, in an equally as stupid notion, pulled them up.

I leaned in closer, as the sisters continued talking. There weren't too many files that had to be deleted, since Light had done a fair amount of research on the cameras in he subway area. The last shot was one directly on his face, during the last few second of my life. And the last few words I had ever heard.

"Goodbye, Raye Penber."

Static.

Then it repeated. "Goodbye, Raye Penber."

Over and over again, I heard it, each repetition ringing in my ears. "Goodbye, Raye Penber. _KHHCHKHCHKCK_. Goodbye, Raye Penber._ KHCHCKHCKHCK_. Goodbye, Raye Penber."

_KHCKHCHKCKCH._

"_Goodbye, Raye Penber."_


	3. Silence

"Raye…"

_Naomi…no…_

"Is dead…"

_No, don't cry…_

"No, he was _murdered _by KIRA…"

I shook with tears. _Don't cry…_I was kneeling behind her, on a bridge in Tokyo. She leaned on the railing, lifeless, like a limp doll. She had always been stronger than me, and she still was, but now she was…hollow. Empty. God, I loved her-there was nothing I looked forward to more in life than being with her every day. We were engaged. But now, I had fallen right into KIRA's trap, and that wasn't about to happen.

-Meanwhile-

Shimura sat on the corner of his bed, his eyes darting nervously around the room. He had every light he could find turned on, to the point where it was blinding, yet he was too scared to close his eyes. The speaker was playing one of his dad's old reggae CDs, which he had put on in an attempt to drown out the silence that might try to creep into his room.

It was a horrid feeling that he couldn't shake, one that crawled up inside him like a parasite, slowly eating away at his sanity. He glanced over at the briefcase he had been carrying an hour earlier at the incident in the subway station, remembering everything that had happened.

To him, it wasn't the death of the American man, or the realization that the man in the white hat was KIRA that stuck with him, so much as it was the moment in between those two. It had all happened so fast, and yet, when everything fell silent-when everything came untied-that was it. The denouement. KIRA had finished talking to the American, the American had stopped struggling hopelessly, and the doors on the train had yet to shut. Everything fell around them. It was just KIRA, the man he killed, and the silence. The cold, dark look that KIRA had as he doused the fire in the American's eyes.

He had to get out.

He knew he couldn't stay in his room forever. He had to sleep, he had to go to work the next day. But no matter what went through his head, he couldn't bring himself to turn out the lights. So he stayed there, in the corner, until morning.

I had been following Naomi around as she wandered aimlessly through the streets, dragging her feet behind her like bricks. I walked next to her, feeling just as hopeless. I wanted to catch KIRA, but then, what was the use? I had already lost any hope I might have had in doing so by mistakenly thinking my best bet was to follow the woman in the white coat, Kyoko. And finding all the other people that were there would be next to impossible now.

Ever since death, my only hope had been the choice I had made to follow Kyoko home. But, as it turned out, she was an avid KIRA supporter with a friend who worked in the subways, and they destroyed everything that could have been of use to L or me. Now, I was stuck with no evidence and no feasible way of finding the rest of the witnesses, with the entire city of Tokyo to search.

And then I saw it. "According to statistics we here at Sakura TV have gathered…" I looked to my right, a TV bulletin posted in a store catching my eye. "At least 50% of people in Tokyo support KIRA, and one in five people in the world support KIRA. What do you have to say about that, MR. Mikami?" I watched the commentator interview the three guests on the show-an author, a store owner, and a prosecutor.

"Personally," began the prosecutor, "I believe that just as much as I believe that one in six people has a sixth sense, meaning I don't believe it all. See, I think that, as KIRA's influence begins to spread…"

I walked back over to Naomi, who had dropped herself on a bench near the TV bulletin a few minutes earlier, and sat down next to her, contemplating what the prosecutor had said. If one in five was a KIRA supporter, then that girl was one in five who witnessed my death that supported KIRA. But, if one in six could see ghosts, then counting Yagami as well, one of them should be able to see me. It was a gamble, but it was worth a shot. Kyoko was already off the list, having not noticed me when I followed her. And Yagami I would save for last, since he was KIRA and I already knew where he lived from when I was tailing him. The homeless man could still be at the station, but he was a nomad, so I was less likely to find him. That meant that the people I was most likely to find were the man with the pipe and the businessman. The man with the pipe didn't seem like he cared much. But the businessman reacted very harshly to seeing me die, likely worse than the rest. I remember he ran around behind me, then left through the east exit. But he hesitated as he left, as if he had sensed something that no one else had seen. And I couldn't remember clearly, but I could have sworn I saw the name "Yotsuba" engraved in kanji on his briefcase…

Everything was starting to become clear to me now-the reason I was here, the flaws in KIRA's plan. The ways I could communicate with Naomi or L. I knew why I wasn't completely dead yet. It was because I hadn't yet married Naomi. My purpose in life had been making her smile. But with the way things were now, it looked like she wouldn't be able to smile until KIRA was caught…

…until KIRA was caught…

Originally, I had always been worried about Naomi stressing herself out too much, even after leaving the Bureau. I was always telling her to relax, and not focus too much on the little details. But now I realized that even just being around made me feel smarter. It was as if her presence automatically cleared everything up for me.

I had finally figured it all out, I knew exactly what to do. And by morning, I had found the man with the briefcase, sleeping in an awkward position in the corner of his room.


	4. Reggae

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEE-

_Click._

Half-asleep, Shimura had finally found the snooze button on his alarm clock, before finally realizing who he was and where he happened to be. The lights were turned off, the music wasn't playing. He rushed over to the CD player and started frantically pushing buttons. Why had everything turned off?

And for that matter, why had he even been asleep?

It was then that he realized the CD had been taken out of the player and put back into it's case. He frantically stumbled over to the window by the desk, sweating nervously and grabbing the curtains. He curled up against the wall, his eyes wide and darting across every corner of the room.

It was at that point that I figured I should come out of the wall and attempt to explain the morning's occurrences to Mr. Shimura.

"It's okay, Mr. Shimura," I said, raising a hand in a calming gesture.

"GAH! DEMON! GHOST! YOUKAI!" Shimura jumped back, stumbling over the leg of his desk chair and falling backwards onto the floor. "WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH MY REGGAE?"

"Mr. Shimura," I started, "Please calm down and listen carefully-"

"You…You're…" There was a moment of silence. He looked at me with a wide-eyed stare, a kind of mix of curiosity and fear moving across his face, until he realized who I was after a few moments.

"Listen," I started, hoping the poor, insane man would be able to pay attention to me. "My name is Raye Penber. I was an FBI agent who was sent to Japan to tail possible KIRA suspects. You watched me die last night." I said this hoping that he might understand. It seemed like he didn't know he'd ever had a sixth sense, and judging by his reaction to me, he was probably still trying to get my death off his mind.

"You…" he started, his voice shaking. "Why are you floating?" His eyes widened, bloodshot though they were. He was sweating profusely.

"Mr. Shimura," I started, realizing that getting to him was going to be harder than I had originally thought. "Allow me to explain-"

THUMP.

Before I could say anything, Shimura had passed out.

"So, what did you see when you arrived at the station?" Watari interrogated the officer. L had ordered all police and employees who were present at Shinjuku station the day KIRA killed Raye Penber and the Cafeet employee to be questioned. And, it's was Watari's job, as it typically was, to investigate all of them. It wasn't as bad as it had been other times, seeing as only about five officers had been called to the scene, and only a total of 20 station employees had witnessed either death. Still, 25 interrogation subjects was a lot, and often times when things like this happened all the interrogating turned out completely useless. Watari didn't complain, though. Having raised L, he knew L didn't like to explain things, so he always just assumed whatever L was doing had some purpose.

As soon as Watari had finished questioning the 15th employee, he got a call from L. "How's it coming, Watari?"

'Fair," he replied, looking at his notes. "I've had two security officers so far admit to having seen Yonegoro Nusumi die, but none of those officers noticed Raye or the man in the white cap in the same vicinity."

"Good," L said, processing Watari's report. "Also, can you get me the call records for calls to the police and NPA regarding KIRA? This includes all calls having to do with the deaths of FBI agents within Japan."

"Of course." Watari hung up. He was confused, but did as L asked, assuming he had some sort of purpose in mind for the call records. Or perhaps, he just wanted something to laugh at before he want to sleep.

I sat on the desk in the opposite corner of the room, trying not to move. Suguru Shimura, Head of Personnel at Yotsuba Banking Company, had clearly lost his mind after seeing me die, and had resorted to scrunching up in the corner of his room, surrounded by a large pile of random stuff from around his room. Every time I moved, he would throw something out of the pile at me. He was staring at me, shaking and whimpering.

"Mr. Shimura, have you calmed down yet?"

"NnnngghhAAAHHH!" _CRASH._ The coffee mug fell through my head, hitting the wall behind me and scattering fragments all over the desk. It may have gone through my head, but it was still an unpleasant feeling, so I stopped moving and stayed sitting on the desk, hoping he would eventually calm down. Talking to him was the only chance I had of catching KIRA, so I couldn't give up on him now.

Suddenly, the intercom came on with a buzz, drawing the slight attention of the spooked businessman. "Suguru?" A female voice asked. "It's me, Saya. Can you open the door?" From what I could tell, the voice came from a woman, maybe in her late twenties.

"N-no…" Shimura stammered, turning his head slightly towards the intercom, but keeping his eyes on me. "I mean, uh…I'm very sick…"

"Oh!" Saya exclaimed, taking on a more urgent tone. "Well let me in! Let me take care of you!"

"N-NO, no…" Shimura continued quickly, beginning to take his eyes off of me. "You really shouldn't come in here, no…" He was starting to let his guard down, the grip on the picture frame he had had ready to throw at me starting to loosen. Carefully, I stood up, inching towards the shelf on the back wall.

"But Suguru, you sound awful," she replied worriedly. "Are you sure you don't want me to come in, hun?" She seemed to be calming him down. In the same way Naomi made me feel more confident, it seemed this 'Saya' had an effect of making Shimura relax.

"Saya, I…" he sighed, straightening out his legs and letting his hands fall to his sides. "I just think it would be best if you came back later." He relaxed his shoulders, closing his eyes and resting his head against the wall. I was behind the shelf now, waiting for him and Saya to finish up.

"Okay," she said, unsure of her decision to let him be. " I'm still worried about you, Suguru."

"I love you too, Saya."

The last buzz sounded, signaling the end of the conversation. Shimura sighed, completely letting his guard down for a moment, before finally coming back to his senses and remembering what was going on.

"Rugby star, huh?" I said, noticing a high school trophy sitting on the shelf near where my face was. "That explains the good aim."

"What?" He got up, anger and panic wavering in his voice as he grabbed a handful of pens and walked over to the front of the shelf for a better aim. "Go back!"

"Oh, now you wouldn't want to ruin such a nice shelf, would you?" I said, as he raised the pens behind his head in a throwing gesture. "Now that I can explain things properly and uninterrupted by flying objects-"

"No! Get out of my shelf!" Shimura butted in, pulling the pens back behind him further. "Get back where I can see you and tell me why you're here!" He seemed to have gotten over most of his fear, and was now experiencing an intense fit of anger.

"I've been trying to explain, but you're not listening!" I was starting to get really fed up with him, and almost left right then. But everything finally came into place after the next thing he said:

"Damn it, stop flapping your lips and actually SAY SOMETHING FOR ONCE!"

It was then that I realized why I'd had no success talking to him. It wasn't that he refused to listen, it was that he _couldn't._ He could see me, but he couldn't hear me. So I had to find a way to communicate with him.

As I had learned earlier after finally being able to turn off the CD player, I could only touch something if I focused and actually wanted to touch it. So, if I wanted to communicate with this man, I would have to orchestrate this very carefully. I walked out from behind the shelf, my hands up in a vulnerable gesture. Walking cautiously over to the desk and sitting down where I had been earlier, I picked up a piece of paper and pen.

Shimura lowered his arm and backed away, letting the pens he had grabbed drop to the floor. I started writing as fast as I possibly could, crappy though my Japanese was. Shimura's expression changed from scared and infuriated to curious, though he still hadn't let down his guard. When I finished writing, I held the paper for him to read. He looked at me, then the paper, then back at me. Cautiously, he reached out, grabbing the paper out of my hand quickly and turning away from me to read it. It said:

Mr. Shimura, I've been trying to explain peacefully the whole time I've been in here,

You just don't seem to be able to hear it. I'm not hostile, and I'm not here for anything

Other than a way to catch KIRA, Light Yagami, and rest in peace.

Shimura was still sweating nervously, as he had been since before I had arrived. He stared at the paper for a second, then, shaking, turned towards his desk and set the paper on a pile near the shredder. He looked as if he was trying to cover up his fear, but was doing a lousy job, instead looking as if he was a drunk looking to pick a fight. I watched as he walked over to his closet and bitterly shook out a pair of pants. "I…c-can't help you, sir," he said as he put on the pants, his back to me. "J-just…give it up. You can't expect me to help you." He reached back into the closet, grabbing a white shirt and tie.

As he buttoned up the shirt, I went over to the piece of paper I had written on earlier and started writing again. _Mr. Shimura,_ I wrote._ Please, all I need is a way to communicate with L. _I held the paper up in front of him again as he finished straightening out his tie. He jumped slightly when he looked up, then read what I had to say.

"Are you nuts?" He exclaimed, his eyes widening as he finished reading. "Yeah, why don't I just _call him up_ and tell him a _ghost wants to talk to him!" He turned back towards the closet, flinging his arms out as he said it. "Hey L, how ya been? Know any dead guys?" I lowered the paper as he angrily pulled a jacket out of the closet. _

"_Look," he began, turning back to me and holding a finger up. "I have a really high paying job, a wonderful fiancée, a nice house…a better life than I ever dreamed of having." He stepped back, biting his lip and pulling on the jacket. "I wish I could help you. I really do. But I can't let all this go away just because I got involved in the KIRA case." He picked up his briefcase and started for the door, but stopped before reaching it, turning back as if he had forgotten something. He paused for a second, then looked at me. "What was your name?" I wrote it down quickly on the paper, then showed it to him. "Raye Penber, huh?" he gave the paper back to me, having calmed down considerably but still sweating. "I'll look for you in the news," he said, smiling nervously. "At least then I'll know I'm not hallucinating." He let slip a small laugh before turning and walking out the door, raising a hand in salute. And then he said the words I never thought I'd hear again._

"_Goodbye, Raye Penber."_


	5. Ringing

"Mr. Shimura, you look horrible," said the secretary, watching a disoriented and panicky Suguru Shimura pull out his ID. "Maybe you should stay home a while and-"

"NO, no I'm-" Shimura interrupted, shaking and sweating nervously as he had been since the night before. "I'm fine, alright? Never better." He stumbled off down the hallway after putting his ID back in his pocket, leaving a befuddled front desk attendant in his wake and almost walking into a wall.

"You're sure about that?" The attendant asked worriedly, using the kind of tone that would annoy anyone no matter what had happened the night before. Shimura stopped, putting his hand on the wall and exhaling sharply.

"I SAID I was FINE, didn't I?" Shimura yelled, spitting slightly as he turned to face the undeserving Yotsuba employee. His eyes were wide, conveying a mix of anger and fear that was slowly starting to get the better of him.

"Okay," said the employee, uneasily reaching for the phone. "Try to remind Mr. Mido about that paperwork."

"Sure, yeah." Shimura continued down the hallway, heading to the elevator. Even in his current state, Shimura could still remember where to find Mido. _The head of Financial Planning,_ Shimura thought, smirking, _who hates finance more than anything else._ Shimura pressed the button on the elevator, continuing his journey to the corporate strategy department, completely unaware that the front desk secretary was in the process of dialing the company's seemingly unnecessary medical hotline.

_Light Yagami is an ace student with great prospects, _thought Light, as if exercising his already overly-enflamed ego. _And he's bored out of his mind._ He sighed, continuing up the stairs, Ryuk following closely behind as if waiting for an apple to magically appear in Light's hand. In a few minutes, an apple actually did appear in his hand, although he had grabbed it before dinner and Ryuk just hadn't noticed_._

"You know, Light," Ryuk said, while simultaneously processing a rather large bite of apple, "You should really take a rest sometime." He swallowed. "You're probably so stressed, you'll die of a heart attack before he does." Ryuk gestured to the name Light had just written down on the cursed paper.

"Get real Ryuk, I'm 17," said light, letting the comment slide off him. He turned back to his notebook, checking over any mistakes he might have made.

"Remind me why you have seven girlfriends?" Ryuk asked, annoyed by Light's prick-ocity.

"Because I don't have eyes the size of bowling balls," said Light, without missing a beat. Ryuk was about to reply, but decided an argument would be pointless. Losing interest, he finished his apple, then turned on the night's sumo match-up.

-Later-

"Damn it, Mido, you were supposed to get that paperwork in!" Mido was in the process of explaining over the phone to an inordinately irritable Divisional Head of Development why he hadn't gotten the accounting work he needed.

"Allow me to explain, Mr. Higuchi-" Mido started, expecting nothing less than to be interrupted when he was.

"I don't want you to explain anything besides the current state of my department's accounting work," Higuchi butted in irritably.

_Easy, it's right up your ass,_ thought Mido, who was in his kitchen fixing a few cocktails for him and his colleague. "Look Mr. Higuchi, it's not finished yet, alright?"

"Well finish it! That's my money you're handling." It seemed this Higuchi wasn't particularly bright. Mido held back from saying anything to effect of, "I'm sorry, Higuchi, but that third Ferrari you've been anticipating is going to have to wait."

"If you want to blame someone, Mr. Higuchi," Mido started, making a conscious effort to avoid sounding as annoyed as he was. "Blame my workers, they're responsible for most of the accounting work. Now, if you don't mind, something came up with one of my friends, and I have to leave." Mido was tired of dealing with this guy, who was clearly just another one of the many greedy bastards at Yotsuba who had had a decent-sized stick (or rather, a decent-sized stack of paperwork, as Mido had concluded earlier) stuck in his ass for quite some time. "Goodbye, Mr. Higuchi." Mido hung up before the unnecessarily bitter businessman on the other end of the line could say anything more. "Anything yet?" Mido said, turning his head towards the living room, where Shimura sat watching the news.

"They mentioned the FBI agents, but they don't have names or pictures." Shimura sat awkwardly on the edge of the leather armchair, patiently doing as he promised and searching the news for Raye Penber. Shimura had, at this point, told Mido about seeing Raye Penber die, but he hadn't told him about his hectic morning. When Mido had asked how he knew the FBI agent's name, Shimura just told Mido he had heard KIRA say it.

Shimura owed Mido for everything he had. If it hadn't been for Mido's quick thinking, Shimura would have been in a hospital right now. As it happened, the secretary had attempted to call Shimura's office, stating that something was "off" about him. He wasn't in his office at the time, having gone off to visit Mido in the Department of Corporate Strategy office a few floors up, so the call was redirected to Mido. Mido, of course, was already in the process of talking to Shimura, and had yet to listen to why Shimura was suddenly so spooked. So, he did the Shimura the kindness of claiming that Shimura was merely suffering from a bad case of vertigo, and was on his way home. Everyone believed it, save for the still-mystified front desk secretary.

Mido walked in, setting two mai tais on the table and straightening out his tie. "Shimura," he said, sitting down in the chair opposite Shimura and looking his friend in the eyes. "You're not telling me everything."

"No, I'm not," Shimura admitted. "Then again, I can't have you thinking you did the wrong thing by helping me." Mido chuckled, shaking his head.

"Of course I did the wrong thing." He rolled his eyes. "You fainted almost as soon as I finished that phone call." He dropped his head, still smiling, then looked back at Shimura.

"Well, since you already think I'm crazy," began Shimura, moving his focus from the TV to Mido. "I guess I've got nothing to lose if I ask whether you believe in ghosts."

Mido stared at Shimura for a moment, until finally sorting out the thoughts in his head. "Under any normal circumstances," he began, "I would have taken that as a good, final bit of proof that you'd completely lost it." Mido was leaning forward, looking at his hands, which were currently clasped in front of him. "But I have yet to meet a half-assed rugby star. He shifted his eyes towards one of the Hawaiian cocktails he had prepared earlier. "Something had to have spooked you pretty bad."

Shimura smiled, breaking out of his nervous shell for a brief moment. "Yeah, I suppose so."


End file.
